All We Were
by badmoonrisingccr
Summary: Man, if you love pain and angst this is the story for you. Set after Dean makes the Deal to save Sam. WARNING: contains Wincest references and violence.


**DISCLAIMER: **Don't own anything...although I think we can all agree that we wish

_So, wow, this one was really emotional for me to write...literally I was crying whilst writing (and I hope that it'll be just as emotional for you to read). There's some Wincest references, and strong violence. The song is 'All we were' by Too Sorry For Apologies or Jimmy Robbins_

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_Sometimes this feeling haunts me, never leaves me alone_

The weight was always there, like a constant knife being plunged into his heart. Over and over. It was the shadow that he could see in the sunlight, and the amber eyes he could see in the darkness. The pressure was almost getting too much for Dean to take, lying in Sam's arms at night, knowing that he would soon be ripped away from his little brother.

He didn't regret it, how could he? His brother would get to live out his life, the way that he was meant to…granted he would have to live it without Dean, but his Sammy had always been strong. Stronger than anyone before had given him credit for.

But for all his strength, Dean could see it taking a toll on the younger man. The frustration when he could no longer find any possible solution to the problem. The anger, not only at himself, but at Dean. He was quick to hide these feelings of course. For how often he called Dean emotionally challenged, Sam was sure an expert at hiding his true feelings. Making sure as not to upset Dean in any remote way that would lead them to fighting.

But he saw through Sam's little shield. He was breaking and Dean didn't know how to fix things.

_It leaves me shaking, trembling, fighting what I'm told_

He had a week left. One week. A week to do all the things that most people had a lifetime to get done. A week left to say everything that he wanted Sam to know…but he still couldn't push the words past his lips. Unable to accept that he was actually going to die, and that he was never going to see his Sam again. Never going to get to run his fingers through Sam's hair again. Kiss him again. Touch him again. Just be with him again.

He was tempted, oh so tempted, to just lock Sam and himself in a motel room for the next week and block out the evil in the world. But the other part of him wanted to go down swinging, fighting every evil son of a bitch and drag them all down with him. He'd never be able to stand by and watch and wait while there were so many evil things out there that he could help his brother kill before they took him.

And Sam accepted that decision, never trying to tell Dean that he just wanted to stop and…just to stop.

_It leaved me questioning what is true about me and you_

The past five days went by in a blur of salt and burns, and exorcisms. And each day the pressure on Dean's shoulders got heavier. And every time that Dean looked at Sam he wished that the past few weeks hadn't been so fake…both of them trying to make things seem normal…like Dean wasn't going to be dead within a month.

He had two days left…and damn it he wanted them to be real, to feel real. So he picked a fight. Intentionally being cruel and wanting Sam to be the same back. And Sam did, because on some level Dean knew that Sam was feeling the exact same way. The fighting led to Sam swinging a fist at the side of Dean's face…and it connected with a sickening _smack _of his knuckles against Dean's cheek.

And they stood there in silence. Dean's face still facing the floor where it had been moved by Sam's fist. And Sam looking past Dean's shoulder at the wall.

"I hate you for this." Sam whispered harshly.

Dean's nose flared and he was about to snap back at Sam when he looked up. Tears were flowing down his face and Dean flinched when Sam turned abruptly and nailed his fist into the wall beside him. But he didn't do it just once, no once he started going he couldn't seem to stop. He pounded the wall five more times before Dean grabbed him. Wrapping his arms around Sam, and making sure to pin his arms to his side so that he couldn't move.

"Sam, I'm sorry." He laid his head on Sam's back. "I'm so sorry, Sammy."

Sam's head dropped so that his forehead was resting on the wall. He was shaking. "Why'd you do it, Dean?"

Dean released Sam and stepped back so that he could turn around. "You know why, Sammy. I had to, it's just the way that things are. It's my job." Dean cut Sam off when he opened his mouth. "And don't give me that crap about your job…you would have done the same damn thing if it had been reversed."

Sam didn't answer right away. He looked away and wiped the remaining tears from his face. When he looked back, his eyes were clear. "I know why you did that. And you're right, I would have done the same thing. But that's not what I was talking about."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Then what were you talking about?"

"Why'd you have to fight? Two days, Dean, and you choose now to fight. I can't…" He blinked rapidly to fight back the tears. "I can't lose you the same way that I lost dad."

It was all becoming clear to Dean now. How perfectly Sam managed to avoid fights, always shrugging off Dean's comments and bad moods. Practically bending over backwards for Dean. All because he hadn't wanted to fight before Dean was ripped away from him.

"Damn it, Sam, I'm sorry." He ran a hand over his face as he turned away. "I just…I couldn't keep pretending that everything was going to be alright…because it's not."

Sam grabbed Dean's hands and pulled him on the bed.

"Then we won't pretend anymore." Sam whispered softly in Dean's ear, right before he lowered his lips to capture Dean's.

_And as I watch the sunrise for the last time I think of you_

Dean was up, standing in front of the window as the sun slowly came up and wondering to himself if he should just take off. Leave so that Sammy wouldn't have to see him in the last minutes before the hounds came for him. See how much he was panicking.

He glanced down over his shoulder at where Sam was still lying in the bed, covers just hovering over his lower back. He was on his stomach, one hand was shoved under the pillow and the other was clutching another pillow. Dean smiled, he had learnt long ago that if he was going to get up before Sam he needed to give Sam (the little cuddler he was) something to hold onto when he left the bed.

His smile faded as he looked out the window again. There was no way that he would be able to leave Sam and die with dignity. Not only would Sam hate him…but Dean needed the comfort of knowing that Sam was alive because of his choice.

The sheets rustled behind him, but he didn't turn around.

"If you're even _thinking_ about leaving," His voice was thick with sleep, but Dean could hear the fear in it. "I promise you that I will find you before the day is over."

Dean turned around and smiled sheepishly. He walked towards the bed and began to crawl over to Sam when he got on it. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Sam's lips.

"I know you would." He whispered.

_And all we were, all we were…all we could have been, me and her_

Walking beside Sam, holding his hand, made Dean think about every decision that he had made in his life. The Deal hadn't been his first sacrificial decision that he had ever made…but it was definitely the biggest and most important. It was bigger even than his decision to never love anyone in his life but Sam.

Before Sam had ever told Dean how he felt, there had been a few guys here and there…just to scratch an itch that he had never known needed scratching before. But there had been a few women that Dean could have taken with. Who could have meant more to him.

But looking at Sam and feeling the warmth beneath his hand, Dean realized that there really wouldn't have been room for anyone special in his life because he already had one.

Since the moment that Sam was born there hadn't been room in Dean's life for anyone else…but he wasn't bitter over that. If anything Dean wouldn't have wanted things to be any different.

Sam and Dean. That was just the way that things were and the way that they were meant to turn out.

_All we had, all we had…Now I see it's not coming back_

Dean could remember ever first thing that had ever happened in Sam's life.

His first smile. His first step. First tooth. His first word. It had been 'book', because Dean had read to him every single night after the fire just to get him to go to sleep. Not that he cried, no, Sammy had never cried…he just stared. Sam had said 'book' one night that their dad had been gone on a hunt. They had been at Pastor Jim's for little over three days and Dean hadn't been surprised by the word. He had known that Sam was going to be a geek…he had always had the 'bug eye' thing going on.

The first time Sam had cut his knee. The first 'A+' on his first grade test that consisted of whether or not the kid knew his name. The first time that he had asked Dean for help on a math question. His first kiss…it had been with Dean.

Dean knew that it was his first kiss because Sam had blushed like a little girl after and stuttered that he was just curious. Dean didn't learn for years after that it wasn't just kissing that he had been curious about…but about actually kissing his brother.

His first date. The first time he hustled. Their first fight…of course it had been about hunting.

For the first fourteen years of Sam's life, Dean had always sided with Sam on every fight that dad and he had had. Except when it came to Sam leaving school and going on a hunt for himself. Dean had been training Sam in between school, and Dad had wanted to see if his training was doing anything. Dean agreed and Sam had been furious.

Dean was brought back to the present when he heard a faint growling in the distance. He must have flinched, because Sam whipped his head to look intently at his brother. The sun was going down. In a few minutes it would be dark.

"Dean?"

He couldn't answer. He grabbed Sam's shoulders and yanked him to his chest. Sealing his lips over his brother's in a desperate act. Whether it was to show Sam just how much he didn't regret the Deal, or to prove that he deserved to go to hell for ruining Sam's innocence.

One hand wrapped around Sam's back and the other was snaking its way along the back of Sam's neck and into his hair. He broke the kiss and leaned in to whisper in Sam's ear as he heard the growling quickly getting closer.

"I love you, Sammy."

Sam's grip tightened, but it was no use. Dean was ripped out of his embrace and thrown back. He fell on the ground about thirty feet away. By the time that Sam got to him…he was dead.

_Sometimes this feeling haunts me, never leaves me alone_

Three months had gone by and everyday Sam found it harder and harder to breath. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was just…_wrong_. That he shouldn't be in the world while his brother, the one that had always made saving people his number one priority, was dead. Gone.

He could no longer sleep at night, so he drove. Never staying in one place for longer than a night, not wanting anyone to find him…and he knew that people were looking. The longest that he stayed in one place gave him just enough time to get hammered out of his mind and actually sleep for a few hours before getting up and driving again.

Driving. It was his only link to his brother, the stupid car that he hadn't actually ever wanted until Dean was gone. Now it was his life line, keeping him grounded when the world he knew tipped upside down.

_It leaves me shaking, trembling, fighting what I'm told _

Seven months of driving from one shit town to the next and Sam was tired. Tired of the phone messages from people that he didn't want to hear from. Tired of the feeling that things would never get better. Tired of just living from day to day. Just of just living period.

He could barely even drink away the pain anymore. He couldn't get drunk fast enough or stay drunk for long enough. And now everytime that he drank he'd throw up. The bile would rise in his throat so fast that he barely had time to pull over and hurl out the window. But he always managed to hold it back, not wanting to do anything to the car that he had once loathed.

Everyone told him that there was no way to get Dean back…but he knew that there was, in fact there were a couple of ways that he could get Dean back…and he had tried one of them already.

He had found a crossroad and although better judgment told him to forget it, it would never work, he did it anyways. It took him seven months to get up the courage to actually do it, but he had…and the stupid bitch had laughed at him.

Told him that there was no way in hell, no pun intended she had said, that any demon was going to bring Dean Winchester back from the dead. Not only was it amusing to watch Dean writhing, screaming and crying out in pain but it was fun to watch Sam dealing with the loss of his brother. Of his lover. Of his best friend.

He'd shot her in the heart…and yes he knew that it would only kill the person that the demon had been possessing and, yes, he knew that it wouldn't actually kill the demon inside…but he really didn't care. Not anymore.

Because he was sick of being told that he would never see his brother again.

_It leaves me questioning what is true about me and you_

At eleven months, Sam couldn't even think anymore. He was paranoid, delusional and alone. He had stopped drinking alcohol a month ago. He now drank coffee like it was air. Trying desperately to stay awake in the long hours of the night, not wanting to see the visions that clouded his mind in sleep.

Visions of Dean in hell. Screaming that he was sorry. Shaking because he was cold, so cold. Convulsing from the gut wrenching pain that he was in. And crying. It was the crying that got to Sam the most…because Dean Winchester did not cry. He'd felt the cold and the pain before, but Sam had never seen Dean cry.

It made him rethink every little detail in their lives. What else had Dean hidden so well from Sam that he never got to see? How much of what they had shared over the last three years was actually true, and how much was Dean pretending?

But the visions of Dean in hell were nothing compared to the ones that showed the life that Dean could have had….had he not given his life for his little brother.

Sure Dean would have went through a dark phase after Sam had died…but he got over it, moved on, carried on what he was meant to do. Because Dean was a hunter, through and through, so the job always came first. Before his anger and hurt and pain, it was always the job. Saving other people that couldn't save themselves.

But no matter how many times Sam saw Dean saving faceless person after faceless person, he couldn't bring himself to save even a single person. Because why should he save them when no one saved Dean?

_And as I watch the sunrise for the last time I think of you_

It was a year. One year ago to the day that Sam woke up and saw Dean staring out the window. He had known exactly what Dean had been thinking, he had always known what Dean was thinking. Dean, the strong one, had wanted to die alone…without anyone seeing the fear that Sam knew was going to be in his eyes.

But he never saw that fear.

When Dean had been ripped from his grip, his eyes held nothing but love and understanding. As though in those last minutes of being alone with Sam he had come to terms with what he had done. With how it was going to end.

It had been a year and Sam had still not come to terms with it. He wasn't sure if that was because he couldn't or because he hadn't wanted to…because he knew that if he did accept it, that he could move on.

And he didn't want to. He didn't want to move on and be alone. He didn't want to continue saving people when there was no one there to share it with.

For as long as Sam could remember Dean had been there. When he stumbled, Dean would pick him up. When he fell, Dean would catch him. When he had left for college, Dean hadn't stopped him. When he had run back, Dean opened his fucking arms.

Dean was his everything.

_And all we were, all we were…All we could have been, me and her_

Sam sat on the bench outside the motel room. For three days he had waited for the one year anniversary of his brother's death. The day was almost gone and then it would be there…the time when Sam made his final choice. He would either accept that Dean was gone and move on…or he could do something about it. Because he knew in his heart that there was one more option that he could choose. One more thing that could be done to bring him back to Dean.

He thought about his life with Dean. It had been good, great. They had almost always gotten along, which would have been due to the fact that it was just them. Sam and Dean. There were always different towns and different people, but there was always the one constant in life. Dean and Sam.

When he had gone to college, believing in his very soul that it was what he wanted, he had found her. The one person that could have helped him get past the wrong and illegal feelings that he had towards his brother. But fate had intervened and had thrown Sam back at Dean asking, no demanding, that they admit what was true between them.

That there would never have been any room for another in their lives. Because that's just the way that it had always been.

Sam and Dean.

_All we had, all we had…Now I see it's not coming back_

Sam could feel the cold metal in his hand as he walked to the spot that Dean had laid exactly one year ago. The sun was gone and he had made his choice. He stopped and glanced back at the motel room.

Bobby and Ellen, who had just moments ago broken into the room, came scrambling out. They would have found all Dean's and his stuff still in the room, except one thing…the Smith and Wesson that their father had given Dean on his 18th birthday.

As soon as they heard the shot, they'd know where to find him. But he wouldn't tell them where he was, because of course they would try to stop him. He looked down at the dirt and fell to his knees, because he could still see Dean's body lying there. His eyes were blank, empty and hollow.

"Sam!"

He scrambled off his knees and back onto his feet, a little off balance because he hadn't eaten in…well, he wasn't sure how long it had been. He was lankier than usual because he hadn't been eating and he'd been drinking for over ten months straight. His clothes where dirty…he wasn't sure when the last time he had changed was.

"Come on, Sam, you know this isn't what he would have wanted. What either of them would have wanted." Bobby took a step closer and Sam backed up. He stopped. "I know what you're feeling, Sam."

A breeze swept through the trees and cooled Sam's face…that was when he felt the tears. He hadn't cried in the year that Dean had been gone, but he was crying now. He sniffed as his nose began to run and he wiped his nose with the hand that was holding the gun.

"How the hell do you know?!" He screamed. "How do you know what I'm feeling? You couldn't possible understand!"

"Sam, honey, please." Ellen stepped closer, and because he didn't feel threatened by her Sam didn't move. "This isn't the way."

Sam smiled. "Yes, it is. I've thought about this for a year…and maybe my mind wasn't clear the in the whole of that time, but I know. This is the only way for me to see him again."

Sam lifted the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

_And all we were, all we were…All we could have been…All we had, all we had…Now I see it's not coming back_

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_Holy Crap! Lol, I'm crying again after proof reading it! Obviously this is **NOT** the way that I see the season three finale ending, but i heard the song and it just clicked. So I would REALLY appreciate reviews on this one guys! It was really emotional and I want to know if it affected you the way it did me!_


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